One Smooth Criminal
by SummerBummin
Summary: Detective Jellal hasn't slept in 3 days and there is an annoying criminal in the precinct holding cell who just won't leave him alone For day 5 of #ftlgbtales' event "when we take different paths" menslash week! Prompt: tired


Jellal stared at the computer screen with bleary eyes, repeatedly blinking as he fought to stay awake. He went through file after file, his head dropping lower with each click.

"Ay, blue." Someone whistled at him, like he was a dog that needed to come inside. "You still awake?"

Jellal turned his chair, so that he could put a face to the voice.

One look and he knew who it was. Cobra. A member of the Oracion Seis gang, known for his adept skill in poison and blackmail. Two things identified this man as the Oracion Seis' snake charmer.

First was the scar that sealed shut his left eye, to fine a cut to be anything but deliberate. Some rumors said the gang's leader, Brain had cut out his eye as a punishment, others said that Cobra cut it out himself. Jellal didn't know which one he believed. Both options were to horrid to even think about.

Second was the tattoo, the one that had given him his name. A long purple snake tattoo circled his right arm, from wrist to shoulder, traveling up the tanned skin. It was so well drawn it almost seemed real. The snake's slitted acid green eyes seemed to watch him, as it would uncoil and strike if he harmed its host.

"Wow." Cobra looked him up and down, twice. "You look like you need to catch up on a week's worth of sleep."

Jellal glared, but its purpose was defeated by the dark bags under his eyes. "As you can see, I'm tired. So, could you please not do this now."

"Someone's cranky." The criminal snickered.

Jellal ignored him and went to drown his sorrows, getting up to make another cup of coffee.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Cobra said and frowned when he was ignored once again. "What is that your tenth cup of coffee?"

"It's my seventh cup." Jellal corrected, taking a long slow sip. The coffee might taste like crap, but at least it was warm. Most importantly it would keep him running.

"You're the only one still here, why don't you go home?"

Despite his exhaustion, Jellal knew what the criminal was trying to do. If he went home no one would be in the precinct to look after they're high profile inmate. He answered anyways. "Can't, I have paperwork to do"

"Your boss must hate you or somethin'."

"Yeah? And your boss must really hate you if he cut out your eye." Jellal shot back, temper boiling over due to the criminal goading and his own exhaustion. Jellal regretted saying it as soon as it came out of his mouth.

Cobra had gone deathly still, his face hard and cold. "I cut out my own eye."

"What?" Jellal sputtered on his coffee. "Why?"

"Because I deserved it," his fingers ghosted over the scar, before falling back into his lap. "And I wanted the pain."

"You felt guilty?" The cop blurted, shocked to his core.

Cobra was silent but the look in his one good eye told Jellal that he had hit the mark. He didn't know why he was so surprised, lots of criminals felt remorse. Maybe it was because he hadn't pegged Cobra as that kind of person.

"If you feel bad about it, then why do you keep on poisoning people?" Jellal asked.

At that Cobra barked out a laugh, but there was no real humor behind it, only bitterness. "I didn't cut out my eye because of that. Those bastards all deserved it. Just like I deserved this." He pointed to his eye.

When Jellal blanched the criminal stood up, bringing his face close to the bars. "Now don't act all high and mighty. I know why you're really here. Trying to put away criminals as a way to make up for what you did. You feel guilty too."

"Takes one to know one, right?" Jellal looked into his coffee cup, watching the ripples as his heart clenched inside his chest.

"Quit looking so damn miserable." Cobra hissed, making Jellal look up. "Put some anti-depressants in your coffee or get a dog just get that pathetic look off your face."

"Why do you care?" the blue haired cop inquired.

"Because I've been in this cell for over 6 hours and I'm bored. You're the only thing pretty enough to look at but you ain't pretty with that stupid look on your face."

Jellal blinked. "You think I'm pretty?"

"Not with that stupid face you were making." He looked away, a blush staining his cheeks. "You looked like a poster boy for cops with PTSD."

"PTSD or not I have to do my job." Jellal looked back at his glowing screen and the stack of files, not even close to being done.

Cobra spread his hands, a grin on his face. "Spoken like a true cop."

"As entertaining as this has been, can you please just go to sleep? I'd like to do my work in peace."

"You're the one that needs sleep not me."

Jellal glared and Cobra put up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright alright, I'll leave you be." Jellal was just about to sigh his relief when the criminal added, "On one condition."

"I'm not-"

Cobra cut him off. "I just want a donut."

Seeing as it was a simple request and his need for peace and quiet, Jellal retrieved a sprinkle coated donut for him, now stale from hours past. He thrust it through the bars. "Here."

"Thank you, officer." Cobra plucked the donut out of his hands. "I've been wanting one of these since pinky brought em in this morning. I will leave you alone now." And with that Cobra sat down and started to quietly munch on his treat.

Jellal went back to his desk, sighing as he rubbed a hand over his face. Back to boring paperwork.

As he worked, Jellal didn't look over his shoulder at the man behind him, no matter how much he wanted too.

With the endless stream of files and computer screen pages, the detective's eyes eventually closed, and he face planted, right into his keyboard, that was gonna leave a mark.

Jellal stirred awake, the lights of dawn streaming through the blinds and hitting his face. He wiped the sleep out of his eyes, and rubbed at the computer keys ident on his face.

He stopped, lowering his hand when he realized he had a weight on his shoulders. It was a white coat, the same coat Cobra had been wearing.

Jellal whirled around, running up to the cell. It was empty. Just as he'd suspected.

"Dammit, Cobra." He cursed aloud, running his hands through his hair, the blue mop now even more of a disarray.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets in frustration, then stopped when his hand curled around a crumpled piece of paper.

Jellal took it out, unraveling it with care. It was a note.

 _This is what you get when you wear yourself out. And when your station can't afford better locks. Better luck next time, blue!_

Jellal scowled then saw the tiny script in the bottom corner, likely an end note.

 _P.S. You look cute when your asleep. All your frowny lines go away ;)_

Underneath the end note was a series of digits that couldn't be anything but a phone number.

Jellal angrily crumbled up the paper, smashing it between his palms. He went to drop it in the trash and stopped. He looked at the ball of paper, then the trash can, then the paper again.

Without a word he dropped the wadded up paper in his desk, and left the precinct.

He didn't need a phone number. He would find Cobra.

And it would be on his own terms.

Ooh he gave Jellal's his number! Cobra is one smooth criminal alright. They'd tragic boys are my love. Especially my bebe snek.

Thanks for reading! Don't hesitate to give feedback! I'll eat it all up.


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